Everywhere to the Room
by sojirom
Summary: Jack has been stuck in a place that all directions lead to a room. A strange little room. (Story contains mild BDSM)


Everywhere to the Room pt1

Darkness.

I know it well, and even better: the cold. So walking down these dark, icy stone walkways aren't terribly uncomfortable just yet. Or are they bridges? Either way the path is just barely lit by candles scattered about, but sometimes the light goes out and parts of the path disappears.

The falling is gut wrenching as I never know when I'll land. I'm not sure how the space works where I am. It must be inside, with no draft, fore I can't summon the north wind. But the area is endless. If I do fall I always land on the same place...a wall. A pitch black wall that has a single door I must find with my feet.

The door leads to a room.

A bitter sweet room, everywhere leads to this room. The walkways or the wall always this room.

Its not a very big room but its walls are lined with candles making it the most well lit place I've seen since I've been here. Which has been a long time. Days or weeks, maybe months? I've no sense of time here. It is maddening!

And I'm alone. All except the inhabitant of the room; a mannequin with no features except a crude snowflake painted upon its chest. The mannequin is decorated with straps of leather with steel hoops and locks.

Sometimes when I make it here I'll lock one of the locks on the mannequin, and when I return it is unlocked again.

I have an inkling as to what I'm suppose to do but haven't, yet.

The room only allows me inside for so long. One by one the candles flicker out and once darkness rules, I fall again, usually to land on one of the stone walkways.

It's repetitive and endless. I want it to stop but I'm afraid. Afraid of what will happen next.

The door stands before me. I made it across the stone way again to this simple little door. I always expect something different but never is. The blank face is looking at me. I close the door after stepping in. The carpet feels plush on my toes after the stone, and I even welcome the warmth.

The room will give me a few hours before kicking me out so it will give me time to sleep. I take a wall, resting my head in the corner, carefully placing my staff at my side. I close my eyes.

Sleep, I use it to elevate boredom. It is not something I need but I find I can easily nod off if I am bored enough. I open my eyes, the room is rather dim. I must've sleep longer than I thought. I spot another candle flicker out and my eyes shoot to the mannequin. I reach out, gently brush a finger across one of the straps on the ankle. I hesitate. Should I? Oh should I? I snatch it off before I question too much. Without allowing myself to over think it, as I've done so many times before, I drape it over my own ankle. It isn't unpleasant. The leather is lined with something soft and velvet feeling. I take in a deep breath, eyes fixed on the last candle as I push the lock closed, securing the leather to my ankle.

I think in my head I thought it would stop the representativeness, but the candle went out and I find myself on the stone walkway. I look around, realizing I left my staff behind! I take off at full speed down the pathway. Thankfully this one wasn't very long, and the walkway stayed lit the whole way. I frantically struggle with the knob before I throw the door open. It sits in the corner, unmoved. Near its base is a folded blanket. I flip it open, nothing out of the ordinary. It isn't particular soft, but as I wrap it around me I feel secure. Was this an award for putting that thing on my ankle? I give it a glance. It doesn't hurt, in fact, it's almost comforting. Such as the blanket is. With the such vastness of this place, it causes a sense of vulnerability and insecurity, but as this leather clings to my skin, it doesn't make me feel afraid but in a queer way safe. I look at the others, the other ankle one, two on the wrists, one around the waist and neck, and two on the thighs. Of all of them, the neck one makes me apprehensive. But maybe, just maybe, if I put them on, I can earn an award of freedom?

Oh how silly! I'm just so desperate to smell the wind again, I bet I can convince myself this if I say it enough. I secure the other ankle one on, followed by the two wrists one. I try to put the waist one on, but it wont close over my hoodie. I pull my shirt to my chest and place it around my waist. A perfect fit. These were formed for my body and my body only. I feel my face burn with a blush as I wonder how they knew my size perfectly. I pull my hoodie back down and try to put a thigh one one, but again, wont fit over my clothes. I leave those two in a pile as I hesitantly pull off the collar. Gently I rest it against my neck. It's soft, but I don't know...I hate this. I don't want to do this! I look up at the candles, the room is still fairly bright. I have plenty of time. Click! I lock it. A flood of fear hits me as I tug on it trying to get it off again, but it isn't going anywhere. What did I do? I use my staff to freeze the leather, but it never gets brittle, it holds fast. I feel claustrophobic for a moment. I'm trapped. No! Ahh! I scream. The candles all blow out at once, and I make a short drop onto stone. The dimly lit walkway, again. However, I stand before the door this time. I back away. A turn on the heel and I dash off down the walkway, away from the room. Faster and faster, until my lungs burn but I don't stop. I run as fast as I can, until I reach the end of the walkway. I gasp for breath as I stare at the door. With a deep breath I fall to the stone-way. I lay back, my body welcomes the cold surface. Staring into the abyss I recollect myself. My breathing is back to normal. The collar and other restraints haven't stopped me from doing anything I've done so far. With a much needed stretch I obtain my confidence, and enter the room.

The mannequin is gone. The thigh cuffs I didn't put on, sit in a pile in the middle of the floor. In the far corner with my staff is now a large over stuffed pillow, blankets, and food of fruits and desserts, plus drinks from ice cold to pipping hot. I collapse into the pillow. It feels like a cloud. Heaven. Cozy, and warm. I grab a handful of berries and a tall glass with what I assume is juice and indulge. Once my belly is full and body is completely relaxed, I realize the candles are burning slower. Before I had only a few hours in the room, where as at the rate they went out now, I could spend a whole day here.

I feel relaxed. No fear, no anxieity. I curl up tightly with the blankets and pillows, nuzzling them as I rest again. I dream of the outside. Of introducing the first snow to a fall day. Playing with children in the park. Enjoying my self with little pranks. Once I wake up I realize the room had changed.

Above me is a chalk board, and in the center of the room a strange table with a lid.

I examine it, lifting and closing the lid. Strangely still, the end of the lid has two cut outs. They are lined with soft, plush material, but what are they for, I wonder. I take a glance at the chalk board to notice a picture scrawled across. Two pictures, actually. It looks like a picture of the table with a figure sitting in the middle of it, lid up. The next picture the lid is down, with two feet hanging out of it. I know this is what I'm suppose to do. Even if the figure on the board didn't have a snowflake on it's face.

I look around the room. What would happen if I went under the lid?

"I wont do it!" I called to the empty room. As soon as I did the candles went out. I am back on the stone bridge. I grumble and slowly walk off in one direction. Slowly, debating, what do I do? Maybe I should climb on the table, maybe I shouldn't. Oh what do I do? The thoughts race, and many options and consequences swarm my head.

The door. I open it. Just as I left it, the table has replaced the mannequin and the new decor sits where I left it. I pout for a moment, I never did come up with an idea or what to do. But I do know if I don't do as this place wants, it will keep me here, forever and ever, with nothing changing. It has been a very long time already. Reluctantly I sit on the table; taking a quick glance at the drawing again. 'Fine' I say to myself. I lay back, allowing my feet to stick out the back end, and slowly, very slowly I lower the lid until it touches the table.

Click.

It locked! Oh no! I shove my torso into the top of the lid but it wont budge. A wave of panic has taken over. "Let me out! Help!" Ahh! I pound on the lid and try to kick my legs, but they are held tightly in place by the lid.

It takes a few moments but I recompose myself; just in time to realize someone is near my feet. They are securing the two leather anklets together. Anxiety. I try to do something, but I'm trapped. The most I can do it wiggle my feet and toes but what could that do?

Cold, no wet, and warm, very warm. Water. Warm water is being poured over my feet. I can feel it. I can feel a slick cloth rub my skin. I think the person is washing my feet. They drag the cloth between my toes, causing a tickle on my skin. It wasn't unpleasant but felt awkward, because I didn't know what was going to happen. The darkness, and anticipation heightened my sense of touch, and every little graze sent immense feelings into me. Some good, some not so good.

The person dried my feet before leaving them alone for a short time.

"Ah!" A sharp sting at my feet. "Ah!" Another. Something was hitting my feet. I twisted my feet in their bondage, trying to spare them from another hit, but I couldn't. "Ah!" They never were so sensitive before. I live my life with bare feet, walking on rocks and stone with not a second thought, but I think because of not being able to see, or hear or even properly sense anything before my calves that I'm on edge, and it is making it more erogenous. "Ah! Ah!"

I claw at the inside of the lid. I desperately want to grip something in hope to help me deal with the pain, "Ah!"

"..." Fingers touch my heels gently as the pain subsides, but not before a new sensation confuses me. Something is being poured onto my toes. It is colder than the water, and feels good on the soles of my feet as the fingers rub it in. The hands move all over, rubbing and massaging my feet, leaving my skin slick from whatever it was.

A break in the sensations came abruptly. No more rubbing, no touching. I wiggle my toes a bit. The slickness of the stuff is a weird feeling, so much so I almost forgot about the mild sting that lingers on my feet. I wonder who is doing this to me. I think it may be someone who meddles with the dark but this doesn't seem his style. But I suppose I don't know him very well, now that I think about it.

Something is threaded between my toes. It feels like a ribbon. It is pulled tighter, tying my two big toes together, a little fiddling and I can only assume it's secured with a bow. The ribbon makes it so I can't twist my feet, or move them all that much. Fingers strum over my wiggling toes.

What sort of game is this suppose to be? Is this person decorating me bows and things?

Something hard with a rounded end is pushed into my arches, until they part, allowing the object to push through. The slickness applied to my feet makes this a fairly easy for this to happen. It is retracted before it's pushed through again. I'm not sure what this is, but it's hot and hard. It is a bit uncomfortable as it shoves in again, faster, and faster, making my arches numb up. As suddenly as it starts it stops. Something hot drips across my toes. I wiggle my toes, this is slicker than the oilish substance that was applied before. It doesn't stay hot for long, it cools very quickly and becomes sticky until the person is again washing my feet. The ribbon is pulled away, and my feet are released from each other.

Click. The lid was unlocked. I throw it open and look around. Who ever was here is now gone. I hop off the table. The stinging comes back slightly. I glance around, something seems different, but what. I inhale, I can smell it. The wind. Fresh air! But from where? There! The far wall has a small hole cut into it, too small for even a finger to fit through, but the air is coming in. I press my nose to it and take in a deep breath. Oh! I forgot how delightful it smells. I can smell flowers, and heat from the sun. It must be summer. I try to look out the hole but the wall is much too deep, I can only see a dot brightness. This little dot fills me with hope. I turn back to the room. So, all I have to do is obey and I'll get rewarded with what I want. A soft spot to sleep, now the wind, maybe if I go along, I'll eventually get my freedom! I am willing to try, anything is better than nothing at this point.

I will stay at this little hole of hope until the candles go out, and once they do I'll be back to this room, to do whatever is needed of me.


End file.
